AfterParty
by AthenaMay24
Summary: Pepper and Tony throw a "YAY, I saved the world and I'm not dead!" Party. Natasha and Clint decide to go to the party on a date, without telling the other Avengers. Not a lot of action or confrontation, but some exploration of Nat and Clint's personal worries and some of Nat's background. I own nothing.


**A/N This is a 'sequel' to my other Clintasha fic, AfterShock. You don't have to read AfterShock to understand it though, but it might help. But if you want to know how they reveal their feeling for each other, definitely check it out. I wasn't sure if I should include this with 'AfterShock' or just have it as a separate one-shot. I decided to keep it separate because I wanted to do a series of one-shots that could be read individually. Please review! I'm still not sure if I'm keeping the characters consistent with their personalities in the movie.**

AfterParty

Natasha took a deep breath. This should be nothing. She'd been to parties before. Hell, she'd even been to an infamous Stark Party. So, it definitely should be better than Tony's birthday party, which had consisted of a party, and after-party, a best-friend metal-man battle, and the theft of an Iron Man suit, all of which she'd had to report on.

The problem was, this party was for recreation, not an assignment. The look Tony had given her when he found out she'd never been to a _real _party had been priceless. Natasha suspected that was part of the reason he decided to throw one. She could play a part and get a job done in any setting, but this would (hopefully?) be her first party that didn't end with her trying to seduce, kill or stalk another party-goer. She even avoided the SHEILD parties.

The other difference: Hawk. She'd be going to this party on the archer's arm. Like a date. Like the first date she's ever been on as herself and not Natalie Rushman or Nadine Roman or any of her other aliases. Not that her fellow Avengers knew it was a date. They just thought it was perfectly natural for Hawk to be her 'escort'. And if they thought anything else of it, they would keep quiet if they value their skin.

For the party, which was at Stark Tower (where she conveniently temporarily lived), Natasha picked a black dress. A bit cliché, but it was the only one she hadn't worn to, you know, seduce/kill/stalk someone. She didn't want to be thinking about _that_ on her date with Clint.

Clint, for his part, was a perfect southern gentleman. They'd only been dating (could you call it dating if you'd never been on a date?) for a week or two, right after The Battle of New York, as it had been dubbed. They both knew that they were treading into unfamiliar territory and, having done that literally many times together, they tried to make it easier for the other. Which wasn't easy. They were so different, who'd think they could ever love the other? Anyone with eyes, apparently.

-o0o-

Clint had never cared that people assume he is sleeping with Tasha. He knew they weren't, she knew they weren't, so what did it matter if everyone else thought they were? He didn't care, that is, until they started dating. Then it bothered him. Now they were going to a party together. In front of some of the most observant people on the planet. So, when he knocked on Natasha's door to escort her downstairs, he was pretty nervous. When he saw the smile on Nat's face when she saw him, he couldn't help smiling in return. And when she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into her room for a kiss he didn't even check if anyone was watching.

"So you just had to break Stark's dress code?" she asked when they broke apart.

He looked down at his jeans and T-shirt. He looked at her stunning dress. He looked back down at himself. When he looked back at her, he noticed her raised eyebrow. "There's no way Stark could make me wear a tie," he said in simple explanation.

"Would you ever wear a tie if I asked?"

He shrugged, "Probably not."

"So you'd do for SHEILD what you won't do for me?" she mock-pouted. "Should I change so that we at least match?"

"No," he said quickly, "You're perfect."

With a shrug of her shapely shoulders, Natasha looped an arm through his and they headed down to face their friends and the "YAY, I saved the world and now I'm not dead" Party.

-o0o-

The party started off unlike most Stark Parties, not that that was a bad thing, Natasha mused. Sure, there was music and Tony and Pepper were dancing, but the rest of the Avengers just conversed in one corner or another. Eventually, even the host couple joined them. Natasha spent the whole time sipping vodka straight from the bottle, to Steve's amazement.

"Why-How-do you do that?" he asked the redhead.

"What? Drink?" She was unsure if he was referring to her ability to stay sober or just the fact that a woman was drinking alcohol at all. She decided on the former. "You're not the only lab rat in the group, Rogers." A sad smile took the bite from her words. "The Red Room took the ability to become intoxicated away from its grads. Helps with missions, I guess. " She shrugged and glanced at Clint who was nearby, as he had been all night, "I also can't have kids. That's definitely helped with missions." Steve looked uncomfortable and quickly found a reason to excuse himself and go talk with Bruce.

"Was that necessary?" Clint asked her softly, trying to keep the smile from his voice.

She shrugged, "Be myself, right?"

"Well, these people don't get you like I do. And I suspect you ran him off on purpose."

"Yep," she said cheerfully, taking another swig of vodka.

"So, I've always wondered, why vodka?" Clint asked after a comfortable silence.

"Just 'cuz it's stereotypical, I guess."

"Like 'Romanoff'?"

She snorted and didn't bother responding. The party wrapped itself up pretty quickly, proving to be unworry-worthy for Strike Team Delta. It made them realize that they could handle normal things as well as reptilian space-creatures. It also made them consider coming out with their relationship.


End file.
